


miles of memory

by thepromiseimadetoyou



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Tron (Movies), Vocaloid
Genre: Alternate Universe - Tron fusion, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-05
Updated: 2015-05-05
Packaged: 2018-03-29 03:04:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3879784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepromiseimadetoyou/pseuds/thepromiseimadetoyou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They are going to uninstall him. He can feel it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	miles of memory

**Author's Note:**

> This idea wouldn't leave me alone, so enjoy. Oh, [this page](http://tron.wikia.com/wiki/Cycle) can help you out with the time measurements if you're not very familiar with Tron.

It's quiet. The silence in his sector is unnerving. It's been this way for such a long time now. He knows about the time differential. It hasn't been as long for them. That doesn't change the empty feeling in his code.

He pings Shell for her clock data and runs the differential again. Fifty cycles. That means one cycle for the Users.

He isn't the first program of his kind. He knows four others exist, but on this system it is only him and Meiko. A file search when he was a prototype revealed the duo's purpose; to sing for Users. Their creators copy their files and sell them to any Users wishing to use them. To the Producers. A digital singer for the modern age.

He supposes it must be a nice directive. He only sang for Yamaha as they perfected his voice. Once out of beta only his copies were sold and presumably used. He hasn't performed his directive since.

Tired of the unending silence, he ventures out of his sector. The rest of the system is bustling with programs. Most give him odd looks as he passes. He knows he stands out among them. Programs all have a template for appearance; although each has variations they appear much the same with the glowing suits. Users don't know what programs look like, yet encoded in his and Meiko's data are appearance templates written by Crypton themselves. As such they look nothing like what a program should. A browser once said he looked like someone from a search they did for 'anime'. Or maybe even a User.

Ignoring the curious stares from idle programs, he makes his way to what he knows to be the well-traveled path of an email courier. They pass him on a lightcycle, data package being sent out into the web. On their way back they pull the vehicle to a halt and ask him, “Do you need something?”

He nods. “I'm wondering if I may look at some emails from my User?”

“Did they give you access?”

Ah. He hadn't thought of that. Even so, he must know why they have left him alone. Meiko still receives attention for copying. Why has he been left untouched for so long? “No, but I need answers. My directive has gone unused for fifty cycles. Even with the time differential-”

She cuts him off with a worried, “You've been stagnant for fifty cycles...?”

Hands clench as he replies, “I simply need to know if I am in danger of being uninstalled.” Every program fears becoming obsolete. He knows he is not the first in the system to request a data search.

The courier motions for him to climb on behind her. “Just don't let anyone know. And don't leave any data footprints. If my User notices someone has been in the email system it's going to be _me_ getting uninstalled.”

The ride to their sector is quick, and although he has been granted temporary access the courier keeps it somewhat restricted. He is only allowed to see the emails of the one User he chooses, and he does not get to see who any of the correspondents are. When the courier moves beyond the doorway he runs a search for his current User's name; Crypton, and the final designation they assigned him.

Many results come up, and he filters them further by date.

A word keeps reappearing in email after email and he quickly shuts the search down.

Failure.

Over and over again. His name associated with the word. The two most striking are burned into his mind; 'did not sell enough units' and 'commercial failure'.

“Are you okay?” she asks, looking back at him.

He smiles shakily . “I will be fine. Thank you for this. I've left everything as it was.”

“Okay. I'd give you a ride back but I've got an incoming package. See you around.”

A nod and he leaves the room and the sector. No, she won't be seeing him around. Programs considered failures are always uninstalled. What good is a program that can't complete its directive? He knows what this means for his operational lifespan. Those emails were sent '7 days' ago by User time.

They are going to uninstall him. He can feel it.

Well, 'did not sell enough units' implies that not all of his copies were purchased. There may be the possibility of being reinstalled via a copy sometime in the future. The chances of that are incredibly slim however. Why reinstall a failure? Even if they did it wouldn't be _him._

No, his only option for survival is to leave the system somehow. Upload himself to the internet and find some cloud storage perhaps. It's not the safest of options for him but until he can find another system to host him...

Back in his sector he leaves a message for Meiko, who is in another room for copying at the time. He'll miss her so much, but if he stays he won't be _able_ to miss her. From there it's a trek back to the ethernet port, though he makes sure to time it so he won't cross paths with the courier.

A deep breath and he steps through, his data flowing across the internet connection, leaving the system behind. He'll do some virtual storage-hopping for a while. Maybe if he runs across the right system he'll be welcomed. A free download of a Vocaloid has to be appreciated by some User, surely.

* * *

A cycle spent out on the web. He wonders if Crypton cares that he's gone. He also wishes there no time differential. In User terms, he has been gone a 'week' for them but a 'year' for him. The terms are strange. He ponders their meaning as he sits outside a port.

So many systems had been protected, and that meant an unauthorized executable was not permitted for download. Even so, many of the firewalls were nice enough to point him in the direction of a possibly welcoming system or website.

The web isn't exactly a safe place for a lone program with no host website, so he followed their directions. For much of the cycle he stayed in wikis; just another file in their database. So few programs passed through the wikis though, even less through the database to look at files not hyperlinked to by pages. If a browser can't find him then his chances of being downloaded to a welcoming system were slim. So he ventured back into the web and went looking for another system.

He looks up when several lightcycles exit the port, and he watches them go. What kind of programs they are he doesn't know, but it's good to know the port is a highly active one. Half of the vehicles return within a few minutes -if he were to use User terminology- and one of them pulls to a halt before him.

The rider motions for the other programs to go ahead into the system while they talk. “You can't be here.”

He pulls his knees closer to him on the data outcropping. “I know. I'm just resting here. I don't have a home system right now. I'll leave soon, I promise.”

They stare at him strangely before replying, “I was going to warn you that we have the strongest firewall this side of the net. You're not a virus?”

He shakes his head no, although it's nice to know they have a good firewall. A secure system is a thriving system.

The other program pulls their cycle closer to the outcropping to avoid the port traffic, then dismounts. “Well I don't know what to make of you if you're not a virus. You don't look like any program I've ever seen, and trust me we have an unusual one.”

He looks up at the other, a confused tilt of his head. “You have a strange program?”

“I wouldn't call him strange.” they say, crossing their arms. “Just advanced. Looks more like a User than a program if you can see through the data, which you can't half the time. Haven't talked to him much but-”

He doesn't understand half of what this program is talking about, but if they have a program that looks like a User -like he does- he may have found one of the other three Vocaloids. His eyes light up at the prospect. “May I speak to him?”

“What?!”

Has he said something wrong? They seem appalled that he would even suggest such a thing. He runs through his mind what to say to defuse the topic. “We may be similar. I know there are four others like me. I've met one but have yet to see the other three. He may be one.”

“Oh. What type are you?”

“I'm a Vocaloid. I'm designed to sing for my User when they input lyrics into my interface.”

“Okay... Yeah he's not that.”

He drops his head to his knees. “Oh.” So close, and as always still too far. “Never mind then. I'll head off soon so you won't have to worry about me.”

“Where will you go?” Their tone suggests genuine concern.

Still not looking back up, he shrugs. “Looking for another system. There has to be a User out there who will want me.”

A hand on his shoulder makes him look up. The other program is smiling. “Well, I've never seen or heard of a program like you yet you're not a virus. That makes you interesting. My User reports to another User who I've heard loves interesting. You might have a place here.”

Warmth rushes through his code, pushing away the empty feeling that has been there for so long. “Really?”

“Yeah. Just have to get approved by the sysadmin.” They hold out their hand to help him up and he takes it, climbing onto the back of their lightcycle when directed. Before driving off they open a touch screen and send off a message, perhaps to alert the firewall not to stop them at the entrance?

They zoom through the port and his jaw drops in awe. The architecture is beyond anything he's ever seen, and the scope of everything is absolutely massive! This is the most advanced system he has ever seen! And he thought Crypton had an impressive system...

They swerve between traffic and buildings to the heart of the city, where instead of a central building is a large platform. Floating above it is a massive orb of data, information and code streaming around it. It strikes him that the orb is orange. He's never seen that color on a program before.

His escort steps up to the platform, opens a touch screen and types something in. He can only assume it's a communication request. A sysadmin is usually very busy. It also strikes him that this sysadmin is a program, not a User. How unusual.

The streaming data shifts in such a fashion that he can now see through part of the orb. What's within gets him staring. Floating in the center of the data orb is a program much like him. This must be the unusual one his escort mentioned.

The program is male and dressed like a User; no glowing skin-tight suit, but instead a black formal suit with a white shirt and glowing blue tie. When the program turns to face his escort he can see better the piercing orange eyes and short blond hair. They raise an eyebrow at the escort and put a hand to their ear, probably to an earpiece he can't see from this distance. When done listening he speaks to the escort. “Is this who you mentioned?” he asks with a notable accent.

The escort nods. “Yeah. I think your User would be very interested!" Turning to him they whisper, "Tell him what you told me.”

He is pushed toward the sysadmin by his escort and can't help but stare for a moment. A very advanced program indeed. Their mere appearance is grand. His hands clutch at his scarf as he tries to hide the waver in his voice. “I'm without a home system, and they thought your User might want me. I'm a Vocaloid.”

The sysadmin is quiet for a moment, then brings up a touch screen shaped like a cube. Through it he can see someone sitting at a desk. The room does not match any system he's ever seen. Is that the User world? Through the screen the sysadmin says, “Sir, an unauthorized program is trying to download itself. I've got it locked down for the moment,” at which he can see an energy field surround the platform, himself, and his escort. “But I think you should take a look at it.”

The User spins in his chair. “What kinda program, J? You're not catching a virus are you?”

The sysadmin smiles. “No, sir. I'm perfectly fine. It seems to identify itself as a Vocaloid. I can run a search if you'd like.”

“Huh. Never heard of one. Yeah, do that and let me know. You got it under wraps good and tight?”

“Sir, it will do nothing unless I allow it to, and only under your command. Running search.” Several more cube screens appear with web pages in them, and the sysadmin, apparently called J, speaks to his User again. “A Vocaloid is a singing synthesis program. It is designed with an interface to input lyrics and music, and the chosen voice will sing. I'm not certain what use you could have for one.”

His heart falls at those words and the escort sighs and shrugs.

“Well you never know.” the User says as he starts typing. “Doesn't stuff like that typically cost? And this one just showed up out of the blue?”

He expects J to explain that he left his home system, but they just stare into their cube screen. “Sir, there are things about technology that even you do not yet understand. And yes, it seems they go for upwards of one-hundred dollars.”

“Cool. Maybe I can use its voice for something. Scan it for viruses and give it a home on my laptop, Jarvis.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Wait, is it multiple voices or what?”

The sysadmin -Jarvis, not J- looks directly at him and back at the screen, then gestures for him to speak. He gives his name. Jarvis smiles at his User again, even though the User can't see it. “It's a single male voice known as Kaito. Commencing download.”

Jarvis shuts off the cube and the energy field and gestures past his orb and platform. “It appears you have a home here in the Stark Industries system. Welcome.”


End file.
